


I've a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore

by fleurofthecourt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Concussions, Dreams, Fluff and Crack, Gen, M/M, The Wizard of Oz - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurofthecourt/pseuds/fleurofthecourt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cracktastically and literally follows the plot of The Wizard of Oz (the movie, not the books). </p><p>Dean is Dorothy, Cas is the Scarecrow, Sam is the Tinman, Charlie is Glinda, Crowley is the Cowardly Lion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore

Dean remembered two things clearly. First a tornado siren had been blaring obnoxiously loudly the whole way back from the supermarket in Lebanon, but as he’d gotten closer to home, the wind had become so strong that it had nearly been drowned out. Second, when he’d made it back to the bunker, he’d extremely warily left the Impala, as well as the groceries he’d just bought, outside because the garage door wouldn’t budge -- whether against the wind or the failing electricity, Dean had no idea. 

This was followed by a less clear blur of fighting through wind almost too strong to hear or see through, a swirl of twigs, gravel, and other debris -- including a misplaced hexbag and a flurry of rock salt -- and the sound of distant, staticky voices that he sincerely hoped belonged to Sam and Cas. 

Then there was nothing. 

As he opened his eyes, he figured something had knocked him out because he absolutely had to be dreaming. 

In frickin’ technicolor. 

The spiral of yellow and red brick running in a continuously expanding outward circle was his first clue. 

His second was Charlie appearing over him in a bubblegum pink gown holding a silver and white star-pointed sceptre, her feet drifting a few inches above the ground. 

“Let me guess. We’re not in Kansas anymore?” Dean said as he rubbed at a sore area that seemed to stretch from his temple all the way to the back of his head. He didn’t wait for Charlie to answer before adding,“Didn’t really peg you as a Glinda.” 

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Like I’d pick a dress that clashed this badly with my hair. This is your dream, Buster. Though, got to say, I didn’t really peg you as a Dorothy.” 

“I don’t think you pegged Dorothy as a Dorothy,” Dean said with a grin. “How’s that going anyway?” 

“Well, when I stop being a figment of your imagination and you test out how awesome the non-dream Oz’s cell reception is now that I’ve patched it up, I’ll be sure to let you know. Maybe call a girl,” Charlie said as she mimed speaking into a phone with her free hand. Then with a wave of the scepter, she added,“Now I’m pretty sure it’s my job to guide your butt out of here.” 

“Well, let’s skip the whole bit with the munchkins, shall we?” Dean said as he continued to rub at his head. “Not sure I’m up for that whole song and dance right now.” 

“Want me to go straight for the ruby slippers and the yellow brick then?” Charlie asked, waving the wand with a devilish look in her eye. 

“We could skip the slippers too,” Dean said hopefully, with the sinking feeling that even as a figment of his imagination, Charlie was still a bratty little sister. A bratty little sister with a magic wand. 

“Too late,” Charlie said as she smirked at Dean’s now ruby clad and glittering feet. He supposed he’d just have to be thankful for the lack of blue gingham. “You do know those are kind of your ticket home, right?” 

“Tapping my heels three times is no remedy for a concussion,” Dean said, as he wondered why his subconscious had decided that he needed to journey through 30’s cinema just because he’d been in Kansas during a tornado. “I’ll wake up when I wake up.” 

“Suit yourself,” Charlie said. Then, gesturing vaguely to the left, she said, “Anyway, your Toto awaits.” 

“Toto?” Dean said, raising his eyes. “Don’t think for a second that I’m going through this rainbow flecked dreamscape with a yappy dog on my heels. You take Toto back to wherever the good witch of the North comes from.” 

“Would you look where I’m pointing before getting your panties in a twist?” Charlie said in exasperation. 

Dean followed Charlie’s hand to where the Impala was parked right where the red and yellow paths began to completely diverge from one another. “Baby?” 

He all but ran to the car and rubbed his hands over her driver’s side door before whispering in a low voice, “You better still be in one piece when I wake up.” 

“Once you’re done fondling your car, well, you know the drill,” Charlie said, waving her hand forward. “Yellow brick, follow it. Peace out, bitch.” 

“Charlie?” Dean said as a sound of tinkling bells whistled past his ear, but he knew full well, without looking, that Charlie had disappeared. 

With Charlie no longer there to judge, he surreptitiously glanced at his feet, then around the general area, which was thankfully devoid of Oz’s smallest residents, before self-consciously tapping the shoes together and almost inaudibly chanting _there’s no place like home._

He couldn’t say he was surprised when he found himself still standing on the brick road surrounded by small but prolific wildflowers and slightly gnarled trees. 

He climbed in the Impala, and after finding that his keys were still magically in his pocket, turned the ignition, “Well, I guess that means I’ve got to find the scarecrow. It had better be Sammy.” 

The Impala was just barely able to fit on the path and as Dean stepped on the gas pedal, she rattled slowly along the bricks, making a slow grinding sound that made Dean think that if this wasn’t a dream, he’d never test her like this. 

Once he’d found the rhythm of traveling along the well beaten fictional path, he attempted to tune the radio. Unfortunately, after a few choruses of _Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is Dead_ and _The Lollipop Guild_ Dean decided that absolute silence was the preferred soundtrack for his hyper-realistic dream. 

About twenty miles down the road, he came to a fork. He looked around expectantly before seeing a decidedly scarecrow like figure tied to a stake in the middle of a cornfield. 

It was wearing a trenchcoat. 

Dean sighed. He’d be thrilled to find anyone he knew right now because there was no way around the fact that what was going on was just flat out weird, but explaining what was going on to the referentially-dense Cas was a task he wasn’t sure he was up to. 

Dean parked the car before slowly approaching the straw filled Cas. He shouted up to him, “Hey, Cas. Need a hand getting down?” 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said as he glanced down and feebly attempted to flex his tied down limbs as though he’d just noticed that they were bound. “I would appear to, yes. It’s strange. I don’t remember coming up here or being stuffed with straw. Where are we, Dean?” 

“Can I wake up now?” Dean muttered to his shoes. 

“Why are you wearing women’s slippers?” Cas asked. 

“Please?” Dean said to the ground. 

“Dean?” Cas said. 

“Okay, let’s get you untied,” Dean said. “Then we’ll go from there.”


End file.
